


submerged

by lollercakes



Category: Original Work
Genre: Hurt, Maybe - Freeform, Other, Poetry, who knows what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollercakes/pseuds/lollercakes
Summary: a remnant memory and a waking dream





	submerged

I don’t remember my first time. I wake up and you’re there, but you’re fully clothed and I’m not. You smell of aftershave and your dad’s pickup and I smell like stale beer and sour perfume. I don’t remember what happened but I ache, inside and out, and my wrists are red and hot. 

I do remember the panic surging up from within me, submersing me until I can’t breathe. I fight, I flounder, I twist in the sheets until I fall out of the narrow bed and collapse on the floor. I do remember crying, silent, strangled tears that wrack my bones and make my hair stick to my cheeks. 

You’re awake then, fear rippling across your features as you slowly get up from the bed and come to kneel before me. A hand stretches out and I cower, curling against the wall and pulling the sheet around me as I try to recoil. 

Was it you? Did you do this to me? 

Your eyes close and shake your head no, a deep breath drawing into your chest. I know I moaned then, a low soul-wrenching moan that broke your heart. I could see it on your face as you shed your own tears and crumbled down with your back against the bed. 

I don’t remember how I got here but when I finally regain my state of mind I get to my feet to find my clothes in a plastic bag, the giant sweater hanging off of me the only piece of privacy I have left. I offer to give it back and you just shake your head, leading me outside your house and to your Dad’s truck. 

I remember you taking me home, my hand held tightly in yours, and a deafening silence filling the air. When we pull up out front you give me a look that burns, my gaze sinking down and my hand withdrawing. You reach across and brush my hair from my brow. Remind me you’re here for me. That I don’t have to do this alone. 

I still don’t know what this is but I shake my head anyways and slide out of the seat, my throat tight as I try to hold myself together. I wish I remembered my first time. I wish it was with him.


End file.
